


body shakes

by Anonymous



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2015-2016 AHL Season, Cleveland Monsters, Gen, POV Second Person, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Your name is Oliver Bjorkstrand and you just scored the game-winning goal.





	body shakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeswayappianway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeswayappianway/gifts).



> after finishing my own exchange fic, i looked through the requests for more prompts and yours really stood out to me. i also love the 15-16 monsters team and i've been wanting to write something about game 4. this fic doesn't completely match up with your request (no bonds and it's just oliver going through the transformation), but i hope you enjoy!
> 
> unbetaed, written on mobile

Your name is Oliver Bjorkstrand and you just scored the game-winning goal.

You crash into the plexiglass, your throat warping around your roar and it’s like you’re releasing something buried in your stomach. Your boys, all your boys swarm you. Hands grabbing your jersey, your helmet, your chin. You’re deaf and then you’re blind and you lose yourself.

You cry.

In the shower after everything’s been said and done (but not done, not really, this is only the beginning), the hot water pricks your back with needle strikes. You adjust the temperature and lean your head back against the cold. The water makes your thighs red and shiny. There’s a deep itch under your skin because _fuck,_ you were at it for four hours. You scrub your arms and across your back, the dead skin building up under your nails.

The four hours catch up with you when you get home and you fall asleep with your suit on. 

 

 

Sedsy comes over and you play Mario Kart like you didn’t just lift Cleveland onto your shoulders the other night. He bumps your shoulder when you unleash the blue shell and calls you a heathen for all the water bottles piling around in your room. You shrug. Your throat crackles when he’s around.

 

 

You’re on a roof for the party. Vogues pulls you down to take a seat next to him and you toast the camera with a smile. He tousles your hair and tells you he loves you. The vibrations of his voice pulse through your head.

You’re passed around to another player and the next and the next, their hands on your skin. Slapping your back. Cupping your shoulder. MVP. That’s what they’re saying. That’s what they’re saying, right?

When it gets too much, you beg away to the pool. You dip underwater and watch the legs dance to some EDM. It’s not as blurry as you expect. Your body shakes to the bass from the speakers. You let yourself float up with your arms out like a starfish and let the water take you where it wants. There’s a hair tie at the bottom. There’s a hair clip. The light bounces off the tiles and ripples through the waves. You close your eyes. And you’re drifting, drifting. Drifting.

A hand yanks you out.

Fuck! _Fuck._ You hack up chest-rattling coughs. Water went up your nose and it’s sharp and it _hurts._ Sedsy shakes you, his mouth wide open, but there’s no sound. Just a big, big white light. You shove at his chest, what the fuck what the fuck?

You wipe away the water from your eyes and blink. There’s a crowd around the pool and their faces. Sedsy looks at you with his heart open and you don’t get it. Sedsy’s mouth moves and moves.

You ask, What? What? What? What is he saying? Why is he looking at you like that? Like you just died?

Sedsy smacks your ears and the world bursts open.

Sedsy: You weren’t breathing!  
Sedsy: You weren’t breathing.  
Sedsy: We thought you drowned.  
Sedsy: Right in front of us.

The ringing in your ears seizes you. You grab Sedsy’s arms when your knees go down. Sedsy’s hands are rough when they squeeze yours.

 

 

In the dream, you scream and you watch yourself scream at the same time. It’s some campy SyFy-esque monster feature where the monster is barely there, but demands to be felt anyway. You’re constantly moving, leaping and crawling, and sometimes you hide, constantly swallowing down your heart. Whatever it is, it wants you. It hasn’t tried to eat you or anything, but it wants you and you don’t want it and that in itself is bad enough. At the edge of your vision, you can sometimes catch it when you’re turning corners. It’s big with the longest neck. Whipping around the air as it follows your tracks. Unstoppable. And as it chases you, you wonder, when did you stop breathing.

You wake up screaming and grab your arms. You squeeze them, going up and down, at the elbow at the wrist, to your shoulders to your fingertips. In the dream, they were missing. You look down at your feet and wiggle your toes. They were missing too.

 

 

Sometimes, when you brush your teeth, your toothbrush breaks into two and one time, when you’re brushing your teeth, you swallow it.

You scream a lot that night.

You bury yourself in a cocoon of blankets and don’t leave until the morning after the next.

When the sun shines through the window and land on your head a second time, you slip out of bed. You pad over to the bathroom. Your stomach grumbles and you place a hand over it, looking at it as the skin on your arms vibrate. In the mirror, you watch your hands sweep over your cheeks, pulling on your skin. Your tongue slides over your teeth, all 32 of them. You think your incisors look longer. Like fangs. Like a vampire, but that’s not it, is it? You lean closer to the mirror and poke your teeth with a finger. There’s nothing wrong with you. You close your eyes, but you can’t. But then you can. Get some more sleep, you say. Change the light, you say. They’re just tricks. Eat something.

The toothbrush head sits in your stomach unsettled.

 

 

It started at the game, right? You can’t remember anything else before that. You pull it up on YouTube in its 360p glory and skip to the end. The camera waits on you. It’s zooming in to the goalie before switching to the team and you can’t find yourself in the crowd. But it must’ve been then.

You slam the laptop shut and forget to breathe.

You call Sedsy. You could’ve been him. He could’ve been you. In the playoffs.

He knows what you’re talking about, but it isn’t good.

You: I think I’m going insane.   
Sedsy: No, you’re not. I felt something too. During the game. Slowly building up.   
You: Yeah, yeah! Like a balloon, right?    
Sedsy:  _ Right, _ I felt so full. I was so scared that I was gonna puke on the ice in front of everyone.   
You: Yeah.   
You: Yeah, me too. What happened?   
Sedsy: It went away.   
You: When? How long did it last?   
Sedsy:   
Sedsy: I’m sorry, Bjorky.   
Sedsy: It was you.

You bite your phone and your teeth nearly shatters.

 

 

Sedsy strokes your hair. You swear you’re losing yourself. Your voice muffled, mouth open on his thigh. Sedsy strokes your hair and says he’s sorry. He doesn’t know what to do. 

Sedsy: You need to go to the hospital.   
You: What if they cut me open?   
Sedsy: There’s nothing  _ in _ you. Not like that. I don’t think so. But you’re not okay.   

 

 

Game-winning goal. First Calder Cup win for the Lake Erie Monsters. The Lake Erie Monster.

Your eyes scan the Wikipedia page feverishly. Up down up down up down. You cup the sides of your neck and jolt. There are no fins. No scales. Not like the article says. But.

It’s you.

It’s always been you.

 

 

Your clothes lie on the sand. Looking down at the waves, you take a deep breath.

You take a deep breath.

You take a deep breath.

You dive in.

 

 

“Hey, Bjorksy. Man, are you okay? We’re all really freaked out and you haven’t been at your apartment in days. It’s your turn with the Cup, you know—Shit, your phone is here? Oh, my God, Bjork. Where did you go? Where did you go? Where are you? Bjorky, did it get you?”

**Author's Note:**

> <https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bessie_(lake_monster)>
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> stylistically inspired by [this fic right here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/140554), for those of y'all who are turned off by second person pov because of x reader fics


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